


Had We But World Enough and Time

by beltainefaerie



Series: World Enough and Time [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Time, Genderfluid Characters, Good-natured Teasing, Multi, Other, Shapeshifting, Vaginal Sex, angels and demons only have gender if they try hard enough so today they put their efforts in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 15:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19337644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltainefaerie/pseuds/beltainefaerie
Summary: “You know neither of us has to ‘be the woman,’ right?” Crowley asked with a slight raise of one perfectly arched brow.“We said we wanted to try everything. I figured we’d start how they were originally formed and go from there.”





	Had We But World Enough and Time

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the poem "To His Coy Mistress" by English author and politician Andrew Marvell. It seemed fitting for a couple that took 6000 years or so to get together, though I'm using it a bit tongue in cheek as the poet is bemoaning his love's coyness and here they've finally given in. 
> 
> Sex is not gender and gender isn't sex but they are exploring both here as they usually have neither. I use female pronouns for the character that ends up having the vagina in this particular fic. Sex in human shaped bodies is part of what they are exploring and trying on something different than the gender they usually perform is part of that. If that will squick, trigger, or otherwise bother you, please read something else. In this series I want to have them coupled in as many ways as I can think of because shapeshifting is neat and this genderqueer author wishes I could do it. I promise additional fics will be much more gay.
> 
> Happy anniversary to my husband. We're been married for 18 years today, together for 20 and both loving these ineffable husbands just as long. Thanks for loving me, encouraging me, and not being remotely phased by my gender whims.
> 
> Many thanks to hoomhumshobbit and janto321 for reading this over. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

They had been flirting for ages, centuries, millennia. They had averted the apocalypse, defied Heaven and Hell, and walked away from both. As Crowley had said, they weren’t on opposite sides anymore, not even in pretense. They were on their own side and got to decide what that meant. They had managed to survive permanent discorporation, but changing places had its own side effects. No use dancing around any further. Of course it took literally inhabiting one another’s vessel’s to feel it, finally. To truly understand. Better by far than walking in one another’s shoes. They’d walked in the other’s body for God...Sa… well, someone’s sake. From the moment they woke up in their own vessels it had been certain. Right. As inevitable as it had been previously been ineffable. Their lips had met that first day and now they couldn’t get enough. 

They wanted more. 

They wanted... everything. 

Of course, deciding quite what that meant was something else. 

 

“How’s this?” Aziraphale draped himself across the duvet, no longer wearing a stitch, and, leaning back on an arm propped above his head, he looked up at his demon through lowered lashes. It ought to have been alluring. The pose was right, the attitude was definitely right. Certainly, it was directed at exactly the right person. Well, in this case, demon. 

Something, however, was distinctly wrong. 

“Have you ever seen a human female?” Crowley ventured. It wasn’t the desired reaction, but it really must be addressed. 

Aziraphale looked affronted, sitting up slightly. “Of course. All the time, really.”

Crowley squinted at him and cocked his head to one side, his lips drawing up in a wry smile. “Yes, but up close? Without clothing? I mean, you look like one of Michaelangelo’s paintings. He was a master to be sure, but clearly never saw a woman again after he was weaned. His ladies all had that chiseled male physique, but with,” he waved his hand in front of his chest, “vaguely breast shaped appendages.”

Aziraphale crossed his arms over said ‘breast shaped appendages’, “Fine. You try, then.”

“Me?”

“Yes. If you’re so superior at it, you can be the woman.” His breasts reconfigured back into the soft tissue over pectoral muscles that made up Aziraphale’s most common, pleasantly rounded frame. He wasn’t actually as affronted as his tone might have implied and Crowley knew it. 

“You know neither of us has to ‘be the woman,’ right?” Crowley asked with a slight raise of one perfectly arched brow.

“We said we wanted to try everything. I figured we’d start how they were originally formed and go from there.”

Crowley smiled at that. “Whatever you’d like, angel.” He sauntered a few steps closer, shedding his clothes as he went. His face screwed up with concentration for a moment and his body shimmered and shifted, hips widening slightly, breasts swelling, nipples darkening just so.

“Oh, my. You’re... lovely.” Aziraphale cooed, reaching out a tentative hand to stoke Crowley’s cheek, bottom lip, trailing down the length of his… her… neck. Exploring each new curve and crevice, every new sensation, like a virgin. 

An accurate assessment, actually. 

He caressed Crowley lightly, trying to communicate with the gentleness of his fingertips that he was worthy, beautiful. He whispered syllables in a language Crowley had nearly forgotten but understood the same. _You are loved, you are loved, you are loved._ Each touch worshipful, sacred. Pure. Nothing could convince him that sex was not a holy thing. These beings had been made in God’s image after all, from the very start. How could revelling in their forms be anything besides holy? 

And the sounds he drew from Crowley were as beautiful as any melody above.

The whole world seemed to condense around them, as though they were the only two beings left in all creation. The very pulse of the universe only existing in their hot breath, soft kisses, the slick slide of flesh against flesh.

Aziraphale felt a heat building within him, a desire rising that had never seemed so insistent. He pressed needy, open mouthed kisses to Crowley’s throat, making her gasp, claw, cry out for more. 

Crowley gripped his hips tight enough to bruise mortal flesh and drew him down onto the bed on top of her, pressing them insistently together. Her kisses were deep. Sucking, biting, devouring, as she writhed beneath him. 

Suddenly Aziraphale understood what the text meant 'to become one flesh'. He wanted more than anything to touch and be touched, to merge, fill, blend into one another. Their lips met again as he found the wet heat of Crowley’s freshly formed quim and his own flesh filled, expanded, distended, until he was more than ready for their needs, hot and iron hard. 

It was overwhelming. He drew back for a moment, shaky, trying to regain his breath. He stared into the depths of Crowley’s eyes. “You’re sure you want this.”

Crowley’s grip loosened as she relaxed into Aziraphale’s embrace. Her fingertips trembled, fluttered over Aziraphale’s body as though she couldn’t decide where to put her hands, wanting to touch everything at once. At last twining her arms around Aziraphales’s neck and spreading her legs wide, in invitation. “Oh, my angel, yes. Please…”

Aziraphale needed no more encouragement than that. He pressed in, with a surprised, breathy, “Oh.” Of course the demon was hot, but such heat, wet inviting and shifting around him, tightening rhythmically. He thrust deeper, rolling his hips and feeling Crowley push back against him. 

“There, oh yes, there” Crowley groaned, arching and bucking beneath him, riding the waves of pleasure as Aziraphale pressed into her again and again. When Aziraphale bent low, licking and sucking at her nipples, thrusting faster, it didn’t take long for Crowley to cry out, shuddering with ecstasy. Her eyes fluttered closed, as she murmured, Aziraphale’s name, soft and gentle as a prayer. At last she stilled. 

“Beautiful, my love,” Aziraphale whispered, a dark rasp of need to his voice now. He rocked gently into the demon below him. 

Crowley recovered, blinking up at him and rolled them over to kneel above Aziraphale with a wink and a wicked smile. “Your turn.” 

She rocked up and down, bouncing atop him, faster, harder, taking him so very deep. She took her pleasure again as she brought Aziraphale to a near earth shattering climax. 

Everything seemed to shimmer, then his vision went utterly blank for a long moment. He lay back, panting, breathless, positively wrecked. It had felt like being turned inside out, but somehow deliciously so. “Is it always like that?”

Crowley rolled off, curling up beside him, enfolding him in her arms and resting her head on his chest. “Truth be told, I wouldn’t know. But... I think so. At least when you feel this way.”

“You wouldn’t know? But you said...”

“I said it was best not to kiss and tell. I said nothing about things other than kissing.”

“But you’re…”

“A demon. I know. Loads of temptations. Mostly to do things with one another, though. Disinclined to muddle about with actual humans.”

“Are they beneath you?”

Crowley grinned. “Nah. They just weren’t…”

“Weren’t what?”

“They weren’t you, my angel.”

Aziraphale blushed prettily. 

“The only one I want beneath, above, beside, or for that matter inside me, is you,“ Crowley purred in his ear.

Aziraphale’s blush deepened. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He buried his face against Crowley, murmuring, “I feel just the same. Only next time…”

“Yes?”

“Next time, I think I’d quite like you to be inside me.”

Crowley flashed a smile as bright as the heavens, though far more playful. “As I said, whatever you’d like, angel. I’m happy to try it all, as long as it’s with you.”

Aziraphale sighed contentedly. “I love you, you know.”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to love. Demon, remember?”

“You do, though.”

“You know I do, angel.”

For long moments they lay, limbs tangled together. In the contented silence they cuddled close, slipping back into their usual forms.

Aziraphale murmured sleepily, “I wonder what it would be like in flight.”

“Fancying the mile high club?”

“The what, now?”

“It’s what they say when they do that, but on an aeroplane.”

“Oh! Well, no. I meant with our wings”

Crowley winked. “Knew what you meant, love. I guess there’s only one way to know for sure.”

“You would?”

“Anything, angel. But not tonight.”

“No. Not tonight. This was already perfect.” He tensed slightly, then stammered, “Besides, we have all the time in the world?” He meant it as a statement but his voice lilted up at the end, as though he needed affirmation. That they were doing this, repeatedly. Possibly forever?

Crowley laughed gently, pulled him closer, and kissed him soundly. “Yes, all the time in the world.”


End file.
